How Did He Do That?

The typical scene when I get back from a media trip or conference that greets me is happy, but disheveled, children. My house is just simply disheveled (can a house be happy? home maybe? I digress). The load of guilt that is placed on me, by myself, compels me to do as much as I can before the trip, as in to make up for it. Blogging trips are hard, in that they are really fun, which just adds to the guilt factor too. I mean if my work is so much fun, can I call it work? That must be why friends are always asking me if I am taking my kids on my work trips which leaves me silently (ok, not so silently when alone with hubby) annoyed at the fact that they would never ask a guy if was taking the kids on a work trip.

This particular week was an enough tougher one. I had 2 trips to CA, and traveling from Boston meant that not only was I traveling 4 X 6+ hours each way, but I was changing time zones continuously. The fact that one trip was to Napa for a wine event and the other to LA for a movie event was thrilling yet left me stressed trying to make it all work. To compound things I was going to be away on Dr.Seuss Day (my 6 year old was utterly disappointed in this) and our perfect winter season was broken with a freak snowstorm. I was on a mission to make it the best Dr Seuss day ever so I headed to BN to buy some books, made photo cards for the entire class (for both kids) with my girls wearing the hat from Cat in The Hat, emailed the teacher some special activity kits and left a surprise book for each on the breakfast table. Speaking of breakfast, I had that and every meal mapped out and was glaring on the refrigerator door so clearly that even my hubby could not miss it.

I was going to be home for 2 days in between the trips when my hubby declared that our 4 year old was now sleeping through the night on her own. I grew sad thinking some scolding was involved and to a girl without her mama nearby to protect even made me a tad bit angrier. You know how it is, we all want our kids to be happy when we are not there. I just moaned about the messy lounge. A big part of me thought that he was exaggerating or really just lying, so he could show me that he could deal with things in my absence. And then as the night wore on she did not come into my bed.

This may seem small to the onlooker but I was at my wit’s end. The fact that I tolerated it some was because she was so yummy to cuddle with and also more guilt (heaps of that to go around) since I feel that her sister with special needs gets the lion share of the attention even though we try hard to keep it equal. I was going crazy to the effect that I was going to write a whole poem for her. I already had the lyrics in my head, something to the tune of Billy Ocean’s “get out of my dreams, get into my car” except replacing it with “get out of my bed and back in your bunk”.

So I pretended those 2 days that it worked were flukes and chalked it under some weird moon alignment but never under “wow, he did this?” Well several days later I can safely say that he was right. What a huge surprise to see that not only can things function without me, but for some (and only a teensy weensy bit) he does it better than me. I love my bed with no surprise of little people in it. Now if this is a dream,… then no-one pinch me!

Disclosure: This is a sponsored post, and part of me being a “Hallmark, Life is a special occasion ambassador”. Personally loving the opportunity to share a window to my life.